


Half-truth

by orderlychaos



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Fix-It, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-19
Updated: 2012-05-19
Packaged: 2017-11-05 15:37:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/408106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orderlychaos/pseuds/orderlychaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[SPOILERS]</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The shadows of night managed to hide a lot of the destruction, but the scars were still there.  Steve knew those scars would be there for a long time to come.  They weren’t the only scars that would take time to heal.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Everyone grieves differently.  What is surprisingly similar, however, are the curses when the Avengers find out the one they’re grieving for isn’t actually dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Half-truth

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS FOR THE MOVIE!! So if you somehow haven't seen it yet, please don't read.
> 
>  
> 
> Right, so I know everyone has done a fix it, but this one is mine. I had to work through some feelings. Also, there's a warning for a few swear words.

 

Steve Rogers stepped quietly into the remains of Tony Stark’s living room.  Most of the penthouse in Stark Tower had been destroyed by the fighting and there was still a large crater in the middle of the floor where the Hulk had smashed Loki and where Natasha had had to stop Agent Barton from putting an arrow through Loki’s eye.  Thor stood where the windows had once been, his expression sad.

“Can’t sleep?” Steve asked softly.

“I do not dare.  As long as my brother remains on Earth, I will not rest easy,” Thor replied, just as quietly, turning away from where he’d been staring at the city below.  The shadows of night managed to hide a lot of the destruction, but the scars were still there.  Steve knew those scars would be there for a long time to come.

They weren’t the only scars that would take time to heal.  For a moment, Steve wondered what to say.  He wasn’t a stranger to loss.  He’d been a soldier and before that, he’d been an orphan.  He knew what it was like to lose those he cared about and even though Loki was still alive, Steve didn’t doubt that Thor was grieving for the brother he had once known.

“What will become of him?” Steve finally asked.

Thor blinked in confusion for a moment, before he frowned.  “Become of whom?” he asked.  “Oh, you speak of my brother.  He will be returned to Asgard and face his crimes.  My father will not take his actions lightly.”

“You weren’t thinking about your brother?” Steve asked, surprised, before he realised how impolite the question was.

Thor gave him a sad smile.  “No, my friend,” he said.  “I was thinking of the Son of Coul.”

“Agent Coulson?”

Thor nodded.  “He too was one I considered a friend.  He was there when I first arrive on Earth, stripped of my powers and still so foolhardy and arrogant.  He was the one who made sure my Jane was safe after Loki bewitched Dr. Selvig.”

Steve suppressed a wince.  He hadn’t really had a moment to get to know Agent Coulson and truthfully he hadn’t really tried.  Steve had felt awkward and unsure around the agent.  He’d been treated as a hero before in the war, but Agent Coulson’s admiration had felt uncomfortable because this wasn’t Steve’s time.  These people hadn’t known Steve Rogers.  They’d only known Captain America.

“I didn’t really know him,” Steve admitted softly.

“And that is a shame,” Thor told him, walking forward until he could clap Steve on the shoulder with a large hand.  Steve was startled by the earnestness in the god’s expression.  “You would have liked the Son of Coul, I think.  Like you, he did not seek glory or admiration for his actions.  He merely fought for what he believed was right and just.”

Thor’s expression darkened and his hand dropped away from Steve’s shoulder.  “For his loss, I may never forgive my brother.”

Steve knew what that felt like.  There were some losses that would always hurt.  “Nobody says you ever have to forgive,” he said.  “Sometimes, you just have to remember.”

 

 

Tony Stark was in the lab.  Arguments could be made and Pepper frequently did that Tony was _always_ in the lab.  He couldn’t help it.  He was a genius and despite the ego and the words that habitually came out of his mouth, the sad truth of it was that sometimes, Tony just couldn’t get his brain to stop.

For most of his life, Tony had turned to parties and women and booze, but these days when his brain got bad and his thoughts were caught in an endless, suffocating loop, Tony mostly just built things.  The only problem was, Tony didn’t think he could build anything big enough or bright enough to make any difference this time at all, because, unless Tony could build a time machine, Agent Coulson would still be dead.

_Phil_.

Tony had meant what he’d said to Captain America back on the Helicarrier.  Phil Coulson had been an idiot.  Who faced an insane god alone with an experimental weapon, for crying out loud?  Probably the same guy who threatened to taze genius billionaire playboy philanthropists when they didn’t do what Fury wanted them to.

When Tony had first met Agent Coulson, he’d dismissed him as a government accountant, but that had been so far from the truth.  Even now, Tony was only seeing it because the agent in the unassuming suit had done what all the superheroes in the room hadn’t been able to do – stand down a god alone because he _believed_ in something.  Tony just wished Coulson hadn’t had to pay with his life for that belief.  He wished he could have been better, faster and ignored his ego just that once so Phil wouldn’t have _needed_ to stand Loki down alone.

“You know, I didn’t actually know him.”

Tony looked up at the quiet voice of Bruce Banner, working almost silently at the computers in the corner of the lab.  His eyes were staring at the screens in front of him, but judging by the pained and slightly wistful expression on Bruce’s face, his attention wasn’t on the data.

“Hmm?” Tony said, blinking away his own thoughts.

“Agent Coulson,” Bruce said, finally looking up.  “Until we got to the Helicarrier, I hadn’t actually met him.”

“He was a good man,” Tony said, surprising himself by just how much he meant those words.  “He liked Supernanny.  I meant, _really_ liked it.  And he used to be dating a cellist, before she moved to Portland.  I was going to fly him out there.  To Portland.”

“Supernanny?” Bruce blinked after a moment.

“Yeah, you know, the TV show?  It’s about this woman, well nanny really, who goes around helping parents with their bratty children,” Tony explained.  “Huh.  I’m beginning to get why he liked it.”

“So you were friends?” Bruce continued, looking wistful again.  Tony was starting to realise that Bruce wanted to know the man that had made the Avengers become what they’d always been meant to be and suddenly, Tony wanted to tell everyone about Agent Coulson.

“Not really,” Tony confessed.  “Fury assigned him to watch me a couple of times and he was always talking to Pepper about SHIELD business.  We had this thing, though.  I’d insult him and he’d snark back and threaten to taze me into the carpet and then program my TV to record Supernanny.”

Tony felt the grief and the sadness and the guilt rise up again, and he forced himself to focus back on the schematics hovering in the air in front of him.  “Up until a few days ago, I didn’t even know his name was Phil,” he added on little more than a whisper.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tony saw Bruce give him a sad smile.  “Like, I said, I didn’t really know him,” Bruce said.  “But he seemed different.  He didn’t seem to have as many secrets as Fury, at least… I don’t know.  He seemed like the kind of guy that would be loyal no matter what.  The kind of guy who’d fight for what he believed in.”

He had.  That was the tragedy of it.  Phil Coulson had believed to strongly in heroes, in the Avengers, that he’d given his life so that they’d have someone to fight for.  Something to believe in that was bigger than themselves.

“Yeah,” Tony agreed.  “He was.”

 

 

_Nat… What did Loki take from you?_

Those words haunted Natasha Romanov like few others ever had.  Sometimes, late at night, Nat wished she’d told Clint the truth, because no matter what she had trained to be, no matter how many times she’d lied, cheated and killed, Clint Barton had always seen Natasha as a _person_ and not a thing.  Lying to him, no matter how necessary, had _hurt_.

Part of why she’d done it had been practical.  They’d needed Clint in the fight; by the end of it, his skills and his sight had saved them all many times over.  But part of Natasha had been selfish.  Clint was her friend, her _best_ and now probably her only friend, and if she was going to die saving the world, she’d wanted him by her side.  She hadn’t wanted him to hurt like she did.  To have that raw wound that scraped agonisingly against the back of her ribs.

The painful words had caught in her throat like they’d been caught in her heart and she hadn’t been able to let them out, because to let them out would have broken Clint in a way that would forever shatter part of him.  Like it had shattered part of her.  And when it came down to the moment in time where Nat should have told him the truth, she’d found that she just hadn’t been able to do it.

She hadn’t been stupid enough to think that Clint would never find out, either.  The pain was inevitable.  Nat had just wanted to give Clint a few more moments, before someone ripped his world apart.  Because even though he never said it, Nat knew that to Clint, Phil Coulson was everything.  Phil was his lover, his friend, his confidante and Nat knew the pain of losing that.  Phil had been her friend and confidante too.

Tomorrow, she’d get up and watch Thor take Loki back to Asgard to face Odin and punishment.  Tomorrow, she’d hide her tears and pretend that losing Phil Coulson hadn’t given her a new hole in her heart that time would never heal.  Tomorrow she’d look her best friend in the eye and pretend she hadn’t kept the truth from him.  Hadn’t _lied_.

_Nat… What did Loki take from you?_

“He took Phil,” she whispered to the darkness as the she felt the warm slide of tears down her cheeks.  “He took Phil, and I wasn’t ready to lose him yet.”

 

 

Clint Barton was no stranger to loss.  Sometimes he felt like his whole life had been a constant and never-ending loop of learning to care about people and then losing them.  Except, Phil was different.  Phil had _always_ been different.  Phil was gone and there was no sting of betrayal and no warmth of anger taking the pain away.  There was just the agonising, gaping hole where Phil Coulson should have been standing.

He didn’t cry or yell or curse when they told him.  He’d just felt empty.  Clint hadn’t even reacted during the mandatory medical and debrief and psych evaluations.  When SHIELD was finally satisfied his brain was his again, they’d let him be and Clint wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.  He’d gone straight to his quarters and torn the place apart in a fit of rage that hadn’t done anything at all.  Once the storm of anger was over, he’d been left feeling emptier than ever before.

He just wanted Phil.  He wanted Phil to touch him and hold him and kiss him and prove that this was all some lingering nightmare from Loki rearranging the inside of his brain.  Clint wanted Phil so badly it was like someone had shot him with an invisible bullet and he was bleeding out all over the floor.  Without Phil the world was _wrong_ and if Phil didn’t come back, Clint didn’t know what he would do, because then the world would always be wrong.

Clint hadn’t been able to face sneaking into Phil’s apartment.  It would be too much like acknowledging the hole in his life.  He could barely step into Phil’s office at SHIELD, because without Phil, the room was too empty.  But Clint had braved the emptiness long enough to pick the lock to Phil’s bottom desk drawer where Phil kept the few personal items he allowed himself.  Sitting on top of a photo of Clint had been Phil’s old dogtags and right now the warm metal against his skin was the only thing keeping Clint from flying everywhere at once.

“There’s something I need to tell you all,” Fury’s voice cut across the fog of grief that seemed to be ensnaring Clint’s mind worse than Loki’s magic ever had.  “Something I probably shouldn’t have kept from you all in the first place.”

Clint glanced up from where he was sitting between Nat and Captain Rogers.  Below them was the muted chaos of the Helicarrier bridge and they were due to leave soon so Thor could take Loki back to Asgard, but in that moment, Clint would rather have been in a million other places than where he was.  Nat still wouldn’t look him in the eye for longer than a second and everywhere he looked reminded him of Phil.

“More secret weapons, Fury?” Stark snarked, his eyes narrowed as he glared at Fury, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Just one,” Fury answered.

“What is it, sir?” Captain Rogers asked, ever reasonable.

Fury paused to take a deep breath and if it had been any other situation than this one, Clint would have said he was uneasy.  There was a sadness and a grief in Fury’s eyes that Clint had never seen before.  “It’s time I told you the truth about Agent Coulson.”

“He’s dead.”  Clint felt himself speaking so he knew the voice was his, but if he hadn’t, he never would have recognised the rough growl, filled with a depth of pain and bitterness Clint hadn’t even known he was feeling.  “What else is there to say?”

The look of sympathy Fury gave him set Clint’s teeth on edge.  “That might not be entirely true, Agent Barton,” he said.

“What?” Clint said, his brain feeling like it was attempting to translate a foreign language.  He felt his fists clench and unclench against his thighs as the rest of the table erupted into curses and shouts.

“Agent Coulson isn’t dead,” Fury’s voice cut across the noise, rendering instant silence.

Clint felt as if someone had shoved all the air out of his lungs, like he’d fallen off a ten storey building and instead of catching himself, he’ slammed into the unforgiving concrete on the ground.  His ribs were painfully tight and his heart seemed torn between racing a million miles an hour and stopping completely.

“What the hell do you mean he’s not dead?” Stark demanded, in the same instant Nat let out a stream of sharp Russian curses and Thor bellowed, “What is the meaning of this?”

“It means he lied.”  This time it was Steve Roger’s hard voice that cut through the voices and turned everyone speechless.  Clint thought it was almost funny to watch Phil’s idol stare down Phil’s boss with such an unforgiving expression, especially since they were actually talking about Phil.

“I didn’t lie,” Fury disagreed.  “Phil _did_ die.  For over thirty seconds, Agent Coulson _was_ dead and his heart stopped.  I just didn’t tell you that it started again.”

“So he’s not dead?” Clint said and he couldn’t stop his voice wavering at the end.  It still felt like there was a lump of concrete wedged on his chest.

“Clint…” Nat began, reaching out to grab one of Clint’s hands and squeezing.

“He’s not dead,” Clint whispered, staring into her eyes and willing her to tell him that this was all some kind of nightmare.  “Phil’s not dead, right?”

Gasps and shouts erupted around him and Clint looked up and straight into a pair of grey eyes he’d never thought he’d see again.  The rest of the world faded away and all Clint could see was Phil because Phil was the only thing that mattered.  Phil’s skin was pale and there were creases of strain at the corners of those warm, grey eyes and he had a death grip on Agent Hill’s forearm as she carefully kept him standing.  He was dressed in SHIELD issue sweats and had probably just escaped from medical against the order of every doctor in existence but right now Clint didn’t give a fuck.

Phil was alive.

Phil was _alive_.

Clint was up and halfway across the room before he even realised he’d moved.  His feet stumbled to a stop inches from Phil and before he could stop and remind himself that Phil was injured and in pain, his hand was reaching out to cup Phil’s cheek, even as the other slid around Phil’s waist.  He felt the second that Phil stopped holding onto Hill and his entire weight staggered against Clint, barely standing.  Clint could feel the brush of Phil’s warm breath against his cheek and the way Phil’s body was shaking with pain and exhaustion.  But more than all of that, Phil was _real_ and _alive_ and standing right there.

“ _Phil_ ,” Clint said.

“Clint,” Phil replied, his voice just as desperate and needy.

He wasn’t sure who moved first or even if it mattered, because a second later Phil was kissing him and he was kissing Phil and this was everything and the whole world and _home_.  Clint never wanted the kiss to end, but Phil had almost _died_ and everyone was watching and Clint was almost positive Stark could only be silent for so long before he exploded.

Pulling back slightly, Clint couldn’t stop the sappy grin that spread across his face.  His vision went a little blurry a second later and Clint could have sworn Phil’s eyes were a little bright too.  “Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” Phil said softly back.

Clint felt like his grin was going to break his face.  “So, I’m pretty sure you just broke one of your rules,” he said, trying to swallow the sudden and overwhelming urge to give into the tears that had never come when he’d thought Phil was gone.  “No tongue in front of the boss and all that.”

Phil rolled his eyes in response and suddenly, the world righted itself.  “Barton,” Phil said, his grip tightening as if he never wanted to let Clint go.  Not that Clint was going anywhere ever again.  “Shut up.”

“Love you too, sir,” Clint grinned.

 

 

Phil’s chest burned liked someone had poured acid on his skin and he was pretty sure he was about three minutes away from passing out and completely ruining his reputation, but for once, he didn’t care.  Right now, he was standing on the Helicarrier surrounded by the Avengers and they were all alive, Phil included.  Phil hadn’t been certain any of it would actually happen, but the Helicarrier was still flying and the Avengers had become the heroes they were meant to be and Phil was standing in the middle of it all with Clint Barton in his arms.

He couldn’t stop the smile as he looked into those blue eyes because the last time he’d seen them, they’d been flat and lifeless and strange.  But he should never have doubted.  Natasha had rescued Clint and then they’d helped save the world.  “I’m just saying,” Clint continued.  “If you’re going to go around breaking the ‘no tongue in front of Fury’ rule, then all the other rules should be fair game too.”

Natasha muttered something uncomplimentary in her native tongue as she slid up to Phil with her usual silent grace.  Phil turned as much as he could in Clint’s embrace, because the other man was still holding on tight and Phil had no interest in moving.  “Natasha,” he said, but he didn’t get any further, before she was wrapping her arms around the both of them for a tight, three-second hug.  When she pulled back, her eyes were suspiciously bright.

“Son of Coul, I am glad my brother did not succeed in taking your life,” Thor announced, coming up to them on Natasha’s heels, and thankfully not slapping Phil on the shoulder.  “Earth would have been far emptier without your presence.”

“Yeah, what he said,” Tony Stark added on Phil’s other side, looking more shocked than Phil had ever seen him in his life.

“It’s good to have you back, Agent Coulson,” Steve Rogers added with a genuine smile and part of Phil went absolutely giddy at the words.  From Clint’s knowing smirk, he saw something in Phil’s expression.

“Although,” Stark said, finally getting the characteristically sharp look back in his eyes.  “I think I’m kind of pissed you made us think you were dead in the first place.”

“Truthfully, I wasn’t sure you’d miss me,” Phil said.

Stark blinked.  “Well, that’s just stupid.  Even more stupid than going up against Loki with an experimental weapon, which we are going to talk about by the way.  Isn’t there some sort of body armour you can wear under than suit of yours?  Never mind, I’ll build you some,” Stark paused for breath.  “Oh, and don’t think I’m saving you when Pepper finds out and kicks your ass, because she’d going to be _pissed_.”

“Stark…” Phil began.

“Oh, don’t you start.  I’m still of a mind to write you up for disobeying a direct order,” Fury grumbled, but Phil knew his boss well enough to know that Fury was relieved that Phil was still alive.

At Clint’s questioning look, Phil smiled softly.  “He ordered me not to die,” he explained, his quiet voice somehow echoing around the room.

“Damn straight,” Fury muttered behind Clint.  “You think I’m going to do without my good eye?”

The Avengers fell silent for a moment and Phil wondered if there was any possible way he was going to be able to make it back to medical.  As if sensing his thoughts, or maybe just because Phil looked that bad, Fury spoke.  “Somebody get Agent Coulson back to medical before he falls over.”

“Yes, sir,” Clint said, tightening his grip around Phil’s waist and stepping sideways so that Phil could lean against his shoulder and still walk.  Phil was surprised when Stark immediately stepped up to take Phil’s other side, while Steve hovered worriedly in the background.

“Are you sure it would not be easier for me to simply carry you, Son of Coul?” Thor asked.

At Phil’s shocked look, Stark snorted.  “What?  Do you really think we’re going to let you out of our sight again?” he said.

“I know I’m not,” Clint muttered.

“Me either,” Natasha added, the expression on her face promising pain to anyone who tried.

Phil was touched at their concern and probably would have thanked them for it if his ribs didn’t feel like they were on fire and his skin was melting off.  Somehow he managed to survive the trip back to his bed in medical without the indignity of having Thor carry him and Phil sank down onto the sheet with a relieved sigh.  Nurses and doctors immediately arrived to hook him back up to a million machines, lecturing loudly the whole time until Clint threatened to go get his bow unless they left Phil alone now.

As soon as the doctors were gone, Clint climbed up onto the bed and settled down, his arm curling around Phil’s waist and his head on the pillow, looking for all the world like he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.  Natasha did the same on the foot of the bed, curling up gracefully beside his feet.  Steve took up a position near the tiny window and Thor leant back against the wall near the door and crossed his arms over his massive chest, looking for all the world like he was guarding the entrance.

“So, there was never a cellist in Portland, was there?” Stark asked suddenly, coming up to sit in the chair beside the bed.

Phil’s smile was a little floaty around the edges as the morphine kicked in.  It was amusing to watch as Stark took a deep breath, opened his mouth as if to say something and then snapped it closed again.  “No, I’m sorry,” he said a second later.  “I can’t let this go.  Pepper said you were dating a cellist!  So unless Barton has some hidden talents I’m not yet aware of, what the fuck?”

Natasha reached over and smacked him.  “Ow,” he grumbled.

“Perhaps we can pass the time by hearing the tale of how Agent Barton came to be your beloved,” Thor said.

“Yeah, Barton, tell us how you two started bumping uglies,” Stark grinned.  “Was it love at first gunshot?  Did your eyes meet over a sniper’s rifle?”

“Stark,” Steve warned.

“Yeah, shut up, Stark,” Clint grumbled, sitting up enough to glare at the billionaire.  “I’m not telling you anything.”

As Steve, Clint and Stark all began arguing in earnest, Phil heard the scrape of another chair being pulled up beside his bed.  He turned to see Bruce Banner settling in to sit on his other side.  Catching Phil’s eye, Bruce shrugged.  “Turns out you were right.  We did need something to fight for,” he said.  “It just turns out you don’t actually have to be dead for us to do it.”

Phil was never more glad to have been more wrong in his life.

 

[end]


End file.
